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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23578213">Better This Way</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/nekosmuse/pseuds/nekosmuse_archive'>nekosmuse_archive (nekosmuse)</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Third Watch</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>M/M, Smut</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-04-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 21:47:30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,168</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23578213</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/nekosmuse/pseuds/nekosmuse_archive</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Written pre 2005. Posting for archival purposes.</p>
<p>Maybe it's better this way.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Maurice Boscorelli/Ty Davis</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Better This Way</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>I can sense his nearness, even before his soft breathing gives him away. I smile, the gesture lost in the darkness. I don't seek him out, knowing he'll come to me. Instead I stare straight ahead, my eyes fixed on the far side of the alley.</p>
<p>"That's a little risky, don't you think?" he questions, breaking the stillness.</p>
<p>"What is?" I reply, knowing full well what he's talking about.</p>
<p>"Leaning against my car. Waiting for me," he explains, his tone only half serious.</p>
<p>"There's no one around," I reply, calm and lazy.</p>
<p>He doesn't respond, instead choosing to sit next to me, the car shifting under our combined weight.</p>
<p>"You know, I could just get in the car, go home, leave you here," he tells me.</p>
<p>"You won't," I retort, playing off his words. This is part of what I love. Part of the game.</p>
<p>"You sure about that?" he questions. I can almost picture the sparkle of mischief in his eyes.</p>
<p>"Pretty damn sure," I reply, pushing myself off the car.</p>
<p>I pause only long enough to make him wonder, question whether or not I might leave. I won't, I don't think I can, but again, it's all part of the game. At the last possible moment, I turn, closing the distance between us and coming to stand between his legs.</p>
<p>"You're a tease, you know that?" he says.</p>
<p>"I thought you liked that in a partner, Boscorelli?" I throw back at him, knowing I'm dangerously close to getting my ass kicked. If there's one thing Bosco is, it's prone to violence. Not that I'm complaining.</p>
<p>"You're not my partner, Davis," he replies, standing to face me.</p>
<p>His hand snakes out, forcefully running along my thigh.</p>
<p>"Here?" I manage to croak, the sensation numbing all sense of reason.</p>
<p>"What? You want me to take you home, make you breakfast in the morning?" he laughs.</p>
<p>I don't respond, instead placing my hands on his chest, pushing him back onto the hood of the car. If the movement surprised him, he doesn't show it, instead choosing to lounge, as though he made the decision to sit.</p>
<p>His tongue darts out, wetting his lip. I follow its path, my own mouth going dry at the sight of moisture against his firm, full lips. Unable to contain my excitement, I lean forward, pressing my lips to his, my tongue seeking entrance.</p>
<p>He's no longer lounging, more like a cat, tense and ready, completely aware of everything around him. His hands come to rest on my shoulders, pulling me down to him. He meets my tongue, fighting me for dominance. I know this game too.</p>
<p>In the end, he backs off, no longer able to handle the intensity of the kiss, his need for oxygen outweighing his arousal. I smile down, triumphant. Only the slight inclination of his head congratulates me.</p>
<p>"Bottom," I say, earning a full fledged grin. Bosco likes to top.</p>
<p>He moves off the car, his hands seeking out my belt buckle. A flick of the wrist leaves it open, my pants hanging around my hips. He undoes the fly, pulling on them until they pool around my ankles. My boxers follow suit, leaving me completely open and exposed. My desire only intensifies.</p>
<p>He doesn't touch my erection, his own form of payback for my earlier teasing. Instead he spins me around, leaving me standing with my back to him. I listen intently, recognizing the sound of his own belt, his own zipper.</p>
<p>His hands come up, resting on my shoulder blades. He bends me over the car, the night air cool against my skin. Just as quickly he moves away, leaving me alone. I shiver, momentarily lost in the absence of his hands. I tense, waiting, wanting him to touch me. So much so, I almost beg for it.</p>
<p>I hear the unmistakable sound of a condom wrapper being open and my anticipation mounts, knowing he'll be inside me soon. His hand cups my cheek, causing me to jump forward, my cock pressing into the cool metal of his mustang. I groan, the sound echoing through the otherwise silent alley.</p>
<p>He spreads me open, his fingers caressing me, kneading my skin. I'm acutely aware of the cool dampness as he inserts a finger, covering me in lubricant. By some miracle, I manage to stay quiet. I know it's late, and no one is around, but we're still next door to the precinct, and the last thing either of us wants is someone coming out to investigate.</p>
<p>Again his hands leave my skin. I can still feel him though, like an echo, traces of his spiritual presence on my body. It isn't long before I once again become aware of his physical presence. He again spreads me open, his cock pressing against my backside.</p>
<p>He pushes into me, slowly, the sensation almost painful. This time I can't suppress a cry. His hands settle around my hips, pulling me back towards him. My eyes close, my breathing becoming fast and erratic.</p>
<p>"You like that, don't you?" he asks, his voice a mere whisper, his breath hot against my ear.</p>
<p>I nod, not trusting myself to speak. And I do like it, more then I've ever liked anything. The feel of him stretching me, pressing into my very core. I can almost sense his smirk, but the image is lost as his teeth find my ear lobe, biting down, sucking hard.</p>
<p>He moves against me, each trust pounding my into his car. His chest slides across my back, sweat covering me in sticky dampness. I can tell he's close, and so am I. I hold off, needing his touch to send me over the edge.</p>
<p>It's as though he senses my thoughts, his hand leaves my hip, reaching around to cup my scrotum. He's gentle, tender almost. The concept makes me laugh, earning a bite on my shoulder. His hand moves up, wrapping around my cock. I push back against him, my own need causing me to forget my place.</p>
<p>If he's upset, he doesn't show it, instead raining fierce kisses down my neck, across my upper back. I feel my body tense, my balls constricting as the force of my orgasm tears through me, my seed spilling onto his paint job.</p>
<p>With a final trust, he cries out, his body shuddering against mine. I smile, leaning into him, each of us using the other as support to keep from falling over. A final kiss on the nape of my neck, and he withdrawals, leaving me empty and sore.</p>
<p>"You need a lift?" he asks, already settling his pants around his waist.</p>
<p>I shake my head, not trusting myself to remain in his presence. I think he understands, and maybe he even feels the same. We both know this is nothing serious, nothing substantial. And we've both come to accept that these few stolen moments after hours are the only contact we have. And I think maybe, it's better this way.</p>
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